


Delayed

by mabi_lune



Series: Delayed [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, lots of leadership trouble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-06-19 07:44:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15505656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mabi_lune/pseuds/mabi_lune
Summary: The 100 are sent to the ground in two separate groups. Bellamy gets there with the first 50, Clarke's group arrives a full month later. Tension ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfic so I hope I do them justice! Sorry this first part is really short, I wanted the prologue to be its own chapter :) The next chapter is already written and I should be posting it soon!

# PROLOGUE

The first dropship, the Exodus, is sent down with just 50 passengers.  
Before, there is a ceremony where words of hope and despair are spoken, where the lives of thousands are pinned on the shoulders of the children they used to call delinquents. The speeches Chancellor Jaha gives depicts them as heroes and martyrs, and it is unclear if that is to provide those leaving with words of encouragement and pride or if it is to ease his own conscience.

Nevertheless, they all watch the dropship detach itself from the Ark and into the dark space. Their eyes trail it for as long as they can until they are left staring at emptiness once again.

Within less than a day, joy returns to the Ark. Contact with the 50 has been re-established through the wristbands all carry. All survived the landing, and more importantly, all survived their very first breaths of the Earth’s air. Preparations begin for a much larger departure soon.

But just three days later the Ark stops receiving updates from the 50. The wristbands no longer emit any vital signs, anything that would let the Ark that they still live. The Chancellor urges his people to continue with preparations, optimistic that the wristbands simply malfunctioned. After all, the 50 were alive and well for three days, what could have killed them so slowly yet all at once? But there is disagreement. Kane is the Chancellor’s strongest opponent in this. It would be incredibly foolish to assume the Earth is safe enough for a total evacuation of the Ark. Although he would love to share in the optimism, the consequences of believing in a best-case scenario are much too drastic here. Doubts spread like droplets where hope had just been kindled.

Finally, a compromise is reached. Another 50 delinquents will be sent down in a second ship in three weeks. Upon its grey hull, they print the word Hermes and hope that it will bring them good news. Unlike the last, this departure is muted and quiet. There are fears that a ceremony will do nothing but anger the parents whose children are being sent down where others are presumed to have died just a month ago.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Bellamy yet I know, but fear not he'll soon make an appearance :P

The first glimpse of the Earth Clarke catches is the grass, unraveling before her as the dropship’s door rises. She is perfectly aware that there is nothing more common than the green blades of grass undulating in the warm wind but for her grass has always been a rarity. It wasn’t essential on the Ark and so it was scarce, sanctioned to small patches and always slightly artificial-looking. This is the first time she has seen grass like this, unfurling like waves.  
The door opens further and then she is greeted by a great abundance of blue. Intoxicating, is the word that comes to her mind. 

She takes a step forward, entranced, before an arm shoots out to hold her back.  
‘Hey, maybe we take a second before entering the death trap?’  
Clarke turns to the voice, which belongs to a brown-haired boy wearing what seems to be a permanent smirk.  
‘Don’t let me stop you,’ Clarke replies, shrugging off his arm and stepping forward.

And in that moment it feels as though the world is rushing at her all at once. In that moment she is glad for every mistake and every betrayal that has led her to this place. In that moment she feels more free than she has for the past 18 years.

The moment passes.

The others from the ship wander into the meadow where they have landed. The still air is soon filled with whispers, intermingled with shrieks of joy or fear.

The boy that stopped her steps closer.  
‘The movies don’t really compare do they?’ he says. ‘I’m Finn, by the way.’  
‘Clarke,’ she replies, lost in the blue.

She finally looks back to the dropship, to the crowd of kids that are now gathered on the grass, and reality sets in. She glances at the wristband tightly wrapped around her arm and breathes a sigh of relief when she sees the indicator is still glowing green.  
Finn seems to notice this because he says, ‘You know that if it was the air that did it, it still took three days to kill them, so this doesn’t really mean anything.’  
‘It’s better than nothing though isn’t it?’ she muses. ‘Besides, we don’t know that the others are dead for a fact. The Chancellor said it could just be a technical problem. We just need to find them.’

That was the first mission they had been given. Finding the 50 who had come a month ago. The Hermes’ trajectory had been calibrated so that they would land somewhere close to the original dropship, and they had all been given a map to travel there and determine what had happened. They had also been provided with a list of the names of all those who had been on board the Exodus. Clarke has scanned through it in the ship and while some names were familiar because they had shared classes before prison, only one had truly popped out. Bellamy Blake. Just days before the first ship had left, he had attempted to shoot the Chancellor. He had immediately been added to the list of those leaving. But that was a problem Clarke could contemplate later.

For now, she heads back into the ship and begins riffling through their supplies. Two boys she hadn’t noticed before appear beside her. Both have a nervous energy about them, as though they are barely containing their excitement to be on the ground. They quickly introduce themselves as Jasper and Monty and ask Clarke what she’s doing.

‘I’m just trying to figure out the best way to organize everything until we reunite with Exodus. People are going to start getting hungry soon, and having a system to ration the food before that will make it a lot simpler to deal with. And I want to have all of our medical supplies in one place and dry. And I don’t know how we’re going to split up blankets and tents either…’  
The number of tasks she has set out for herself dizzies her for a moment, her mind racing to cover all possible scenarios they could encounter. Clarke had not always been the greatest at preparing for the worst, but since her father’s execution she had been determined not to let herself be caught off-guard.  
Already though, Jasper and Monty are moving around her, separating the food into different piles, figuring out how many people can fit in a tent, asking Clarke if the medicine should be refrigerated.  
A small smile appears on her lips. She’s not the only one trying to make this work.

 

By nightfall, there have been no major incidents. Clarke stays by the temporary medical station Jasper and Monty have set up, but so far she has only needed to tend to minor cuts and scratches, treating them mainly to soothe those who were panicked by the plants which had thorns, the drier wisps of grass which could cut through skin, the bark which was rough to the touch and grazed arms and legs. None of them would have bothered to go to a medic for such small wounds on the Ark, but here the plants which injured them are unfamiliar and fearsome and so Clarke treats them with care and words of reassurance. 

Dinner follows smoothly, and soon all is quiet once more in the meadow, each having separated into their tents, which glow in the dark night. A few like Clarke decide to stay under the stars, not wasting a second of this first day. By the time she falls asleep, her makeshift bed is surrounded by those of Jasper, Monty and Finn and the last image in her head is that of a pack of wolves, huddled together in the middle of the whole wide world.

 

Clarke awakens and the whole world is made of glass. Dew has coated nature and it glitters so brilliantly under the morning that she has to shield her eyes until they grow accustomed to it.  
She is not the first one awake as she can smell the breakfast packs they brought from the Arc cooking.  
‘She’s up!’ she hears, and immediately six of the younger children amongst them are around her, asking about the day, about how the grass is water now, and telling her they saw the sunrise. Once they have run out of stories they disperse again and Clarke get herself a breakfast pack and goes to cook it over one of the fires the others lit before she awoke. As she waits for it to heat up she pulls out her map. Theoretically the Exodus is only two day’s walk from their landing site, flat ground the whole way there, no obvious problems. The engineers and mechanics on the Ark had done their job right.

As Clarke is about to eat her first mouthful, a shriek pierces through the air. Just as abruptly as it began, it dies down, leaving Clarke with just echoes of pain in her ears. She is up in a second, running towards the woods surrounding the meadow, where the yell rang out. As she nears its border, she nearly runs into a girl rushing out of the trees.

Clarke grabs her arm to steady both of them.  
‘What happened?’ she asks.  
The girl takes her hand and pulls her into the forest in a panicked run. Just a few moments into the woods she stops and points to the ground. She then stumbles back, falling to the ground, as though her panic is physically pushing her down.

When Clarke looks down she doesn’t comprehend what she is looking at. All she sees is a mosaic of brown and red, dug into the ground. It takes her mind a while longer for the mosaic to materialize itself into something else. The brown spots take the shape of wooden spikes, stuck deep into the ground, at least three meters down. The red transforms into the twisted shape of a teenage boy, bloodied and tangled amidst the sharp spikes. She doesn’t think she has ever seen this much blood. She worked besides her mother sometimes on the Ark when she treated wounds but it was never like this. Patients in the Ark were always in pure white rooms, their injuries already wrapped and on the way to healing. The way to help them was always clear, straightforward. But the boy under her is so broken she cannot tell if any part of him is unharmed. A wave of nausea hits her and Clarke feels her body slumping to the ground. She hears branches cracking and soon there is Finn’s arm around her shoulder, his hand holding her head close to his chest and her eyes away from the hole.

‘He just fell,’ the girl who led Clarke here whimpers. ‘We wanted to explore a bit and Jamie was walking ahead and then he wasn’t there anymore.’ Her words are broken apart by sobs and rasping breaths.  
‘Is he dead?’ She asks, whisper-quiet.

Clarke leaves Finn’s grasp and forces herself to look down again.  
‘Clarke,’ Finn says, a warning in his hushed tone.

‘No, I have to see. If he’s alive we have to do something.’  
She surveys the hole, moving closer to where the boys head is. There is a spike piercing through his neck, and Clarke doesn’t need medical knowledge to know that such a wound isn’t something you walk away from. Still, she has to know for sure.  
She asks Finn to hold her right arm so that she can lean as far as she can toward the boy. Her trembling fingers reach for the side of his neck. No pulse. For a second she is grateful she does not have to witness him suffer and die. Coward, she tells herself.  
She edges out of the hole and shakes her head to let the girl know there is nothing she can do. Clarke realizes she had never spoken to the boy directly. She had seen him around the bonfire last night, smiling and excited to be on Earth, but she did not know him. And now he is dead. They have been on the ground for less than a day and already they have lost someone. Already she has failed them.

Clarke stands and walks away from the hole. As though out of sight out of mind are words to live by. She hears Finn and the girls trailing behind her.  
On the edge of the forest are gathered most of the others, waiting for an explanation. Their murmurs stop when they spot Clarke, and she notices that many are fixated on her hands. She looks down and sees that her fingers are bloody. She takes a breath.  
‘Listen. I’m so sorry to tell you that Jamie is dead. There was a trap dug into the ground and he fell into it. I think-I think we should bury him, so that everyone can say goodbye. Find me if you need to talk.’  
She goes to her tent and they part to let her pass.

They do bury him that evening and when Clarke whispers ‘May we meet again’ she forces the fear out of her voice, for death has never seemed so unpredictable. And all throughout the burial, her mind keeps reeling, because there isn’t supposed to be anyone left on the ground but the Exodus passengers and the Hermes’, but the presence of traps clearly proves otherwise. She is anxious to meet the first 50, to ask them what the hell is going on, and for them to tell her that this was something she could not have predicted, because the guilt gnaws at her.

They leave right after the burial, none of them wishing to remain in a place which seems to have betrayed them. The walk to the Exodus takes them four days instead of two, as they take every step with caution, Clarke always walking ahead of the rest, probing the ground with a stick. She is not sure how exactly it happened but the rest all seem to trust her. Just a week ago they were all strangers, but now she knows their names and stories, and they look to her for guidance. ‘Just ask Clarke’ has become a popular phrase amongst the group, and while all are still recovering from what happened to Jamie, they find comfort in Clarke’s presence.

In the afternoon of the fourth day, they spot the top of the Exodus through the trees. Clarke silently prays that they have more of an idea of how this new world functions than they do.


	3. Chapter 3

34 days after touching the ground for the first time, and the same adrenaline rush still courses through Bellamy every time he wakes up. He wonders, as he does every morning, if Earth is something he will ever grow accustomed to. 

He groans as he rolls out of bed and steps out of his tent. The entire campsite is coated in the morning dew and it is as though the world has been dipped in silver ink. There is little movement around him, but then there rarely is when he wakes up, just when the sun begins its way up the sky. Bellamy was never one for early mornings on the Ark, but it would seem sacrilegious to sleep through the Earth’s awakening now that he is finally there.  
There is a practical side to it too, though. The quiet mornings allow him to square himself up for the day and make a mental list of what needs to be done, so that he can pretend he has any idea of what is actually going on when the others wake up.

 

This past week has been calmer than all the ones that preceded it, but Bellamy know he cannot let that lull him into a false sense of security. They have lost six of their own to the Grounders and their deaths weigh too heavily upon Bellamy’s shoulders for him to be anything but paranoid. Their first week on the ground had gone relatively well. There was the euphoria of breathing in fresh air, of seeing oceans of grass and oceans of sky, of being liberated from all of the rules the Ark had shackled them in. Yes, there had also been anger and chaos but at least that was something that could be managed from the inside. The spark of rebellion had begun rather innocently, when they realized the Ark hadn’t been bothered enough with their lives to drop them on the right mountain, Mt Weather, where they could have found food and shelter. Their resentment grew as they couldn’t help but contrast their current freedom with all of the restriction they had suffered under on the Ark. And then it was Bellamy who had said, ‘We’re taking the wristbands off. If they think we’re dead they won’t come down and do the same thing do us they have always done. We could own the Earth for ourselves.’  
He had spoken selfishly in that moment really, aware that if they came down they would surely jail him or worse for trying to kill the Chancellor. And he couldn’t have that. Not when he finally had Octavia by his side and safe, not when he was finally free and feeling so very alive.  
But his speech had worked, and a few hours later the wristbands were off. A few had resisted but they were outnumbered and in the end they had no choice but to follow unless they wanted to try their chances out on their own in this unknown place. The threat had been Murphy’s idea, a boy who had somehow attached himself to Bellamy’s side from the start, as though their equal hatred for everything the Ark represented was enough to build up a fragile friendship.  
With all the wristbands off, and just three days after first stepping on the ground, the 50 were dead to the rest of the universe. 

And in the weeks that followed some of them truly were dead. Two had been caught in a trap in the second week, one in a pit dug into the ground and the other had gotten his leg caught in a bear trap hidden under leaves. The first one had died quickly, but the second had lived only to slowly bleed out and get sick over the next few days. They had buried them, and Bellamy had found himself saying ‘May we meet again’ in front of two freshly dug graves, a group of terrified kids looking up to him. And then just five days later he was repeating the same words for a girl who had disappeared from the camp for a few hours and that they had found roped to a tree and bloody. Since then two others had disappeared, and every day when Bellamy ventures further into the forest he fears he will find their bodies too.  
Because of all this, they had realized early on that they were not alone on the ground, suspicions that had been confirmed with each death. A few of them had caught glimpses of the Grounders, as they grew to call them, through the trees before running for their lives, and so they had faces to pin their fears and anger to. And Bellamy had faces to populate his nightmares.

Pushing these thoughts away, Bellamy finishes touring the campsite, breathing a sigh of relief when he finds Octavia still tucked in her sleeping bag on the ground, having decided from the start that she hadn’t come to Earth to sleep in a tent.

Today would be a busy day again. Bellamy wants to make the camp as secure as possible and as fast as possible. They have already dug out spikes from some traps they have uncovered which they have then positioned around the Exodus and the campsite so that they form a fence, and Bellamy has tasked a group of the younger kids to sharpen other sticks in order to reinforce it. Murphy had early on assigned himself as head of a guard team which had relay posts further into the forest so that they could warn the main site of anything suspicious. A corner of the campsite is dedicated to fashioning crude weapons from stones and tree branches. They had found a spear in the woods that one of the Grounders had left behind, and so they modelled their owns after it.  
So far they have been surviving off food packets from the Exodus but these, although theoretically they should have had enough for two months, are already running out. This, Bellamy knows they could have prevented, but in the first week their joy had been such that no one had dared to shatter it by introducing rations. The Chancellor’s original plan was for them to head to Mt Weather for supplies, but the presence of the Grounders had put a halt to that. Soon they would have to start hunting if they wanted to be strong enough to eventually make the dreaded journey through the deep forest. 

Gradually, the rest of the camp awakens, and Bellamy finds himself caught up once again in this strange role he has made for himself, one where the others trust and rely on him. Bellamy has always been defined by what he means to Octavia. He has always been a brother and little else. But over the last thirty days he has become something larger, someone whose words can easily become threats or commands to be followed, someone to defer the most difficult decisions to, someone who bears responsibility for the death of six and the survival of the remaining. Part of him hates it.

Later that afternoon, a whistle pierces through the air. Everything stops. They all know it’s from one of the guard posts. Bellamy rushes to the edge of the campsite, to the girl who sounded the alarm, perched up on the branches of a tree. Murphy is already there, his gaze focused ahead.

‘What is it?’ Bellamy asks, breathless.  
The girl hands him her binoculars.  
As he observes the green ahead, she says ‘I heard noises so I scanned the area and there’s a large group heading directly for us, fast.’  
Murphy adds, ‘I’m not seeing any weapons, but they’re definitely intentionally coming our way. I’m going to go ahead and say that that can’t be good.’  
‘Shit,’ Bellamy mutters. If the Grounders want a showdown they aren’t ready to hold them off. But then they don’t look like Grounders. The way they’re positioned he can only catch glimpses of them through the trees, but what he sees doesn’t resemble the Grounders they have observed so far.  
‘Then who are they?’, he thinks. His gaze is trained on a flash of blond hair that appears and disappears through the forest, slightly ahead of the rest of the group.

Bellamy puts the binoculars down and says to Murphy, ‘We’re going to intercept them before they reach us.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry our two mains haven't interacted yet but I really wanted to write about how both managed their groups separately before meeting! The next chapter will have everyone in it :P
> 
> 11/08/18: Just an update to say that I’m traveling right now so it’s a bit complicated to update this, but I’m already writing the next chapter and should be good to post it when I get back in 10-ish days! Thank you so much for all your kudos and comments they make me so happy! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Highly recommend listening to Human (by Rag'n'Bone Man) while reading this! <3  
> 

A whistle rings through the forest just as Clarke and the others are getting close to the Exodus.  
She senses Jasper and Monty freeze behind her.  
‘It’s okay,’ she says. ‘They must have set up guard posts around the camp. It’s smart.’  
It’s what she would have done too had they stayed at the Hermes, Clarke thinks. And more importantly it means that the first 50 are alive.

Instead of stopping her, the whistle gives her stride more purpose, and she keeps on walking, her eyes focused on the shiny metallic top of the dropship. She’s been trying to keep her expectations low, to not put all of her hopes on the Exodus, but it’s even harder to do now that they are this close and that there is life there, and there are people there. That there is hopefully someone there to tell her that she has done her best and that Jamie’s death isn’t on her hands. Someone who has lived through what she has and who immediately shouldered responsibility. Someone who is struggling with the impossible task of keeping everyone in their field of vision, of keeping them safe, of keeping them united.

Clarke’s thoughts are soon cut short by a shout.

‘Stop moving! Turn around right now!’  
With the second order comes a face, appearing out of the trees in front of them, about 20 meters away. It’s a boy, tall and dark-haired. Majestic, is the word that comes to Clarke’s mind. If she were to paint him she would depict him as an ancient Greek warrior. Like Achilles, all coiled up energy and power. There is dirt on his face and clothes, but on him it seems more ornamental than grimy.

Behind him appear around fifteen more kids. It takes Clarke a moment more to notice they are all carrying spears. She fights her instinct to take a step back and instead takes one more step towards them before lifting her arms horizontally. As though she is big enough a shield to protect her people. 

‘Wait,’ she says. ‘We’re from the Ark too, okay? We’re just like you.’  
‘Why would they send you?’ someone asks.  
‘Is everyone back on the ground?’ In that question Clarke hears a complicated mixture of relief and fear and confusion.  
‘No, it’s just us,’ Finn says.  
‘Just us,’ Clarke repeats. ‘They sent us because they didn’t know if it was safe to come down. We didn’t know if you were dead or alive.’  
She is looking at the first boy that appeared from the forest as she speaks. Clarke can already tell that he is the one she has to make their case to.  
‘How many of you are there?’ he asks. He isn’t shouting anymore, but his voice still rises above the rest, and it has a quieting effect on his group. Like rolling thunder Clarke thinks, it demands to be heard, low and strong.  
‘Fifty,’ Clarke says and then a millisecond later ‘No, forty-nine now.’  
The same pang of guilt and responsibility rushes through her again, and for a moment she is there again. In front of the pit and in front of all that blood and in front of death. She shuts her eyes, and when she looks up again, something has softened in the boy’s eyes. Does he know what it’s like, she wonders, to carry the weight of lives on your shoulders?

‘Bellamy,’ a second boy says pointedly, a warning in his voice, ‘wristbands.’  
Clarke looks down to her wrist where her bracelet glows a peaceful green. And then she notices that none of the people from the Exodus are wearing theirs. Her brow furrows slightly, as she tries to piece the scene together.

But the first boy, whom she deduces to be Bellamy, waves the other one off.  
‘We can deal with that later Murphy. For now, they deserve to rest.’  
He is watching her as he speaks, and Clarke wonders if her tiredness and weariness are so apparent that he can sense it despite not knowing her. Bellamy, she repeats in her head. The name is familiar, but she cannot conjure up why.  
Clarke gives him a grateful nod. And then they are advancing again, and she can feel a swell of energy behind her, because finally they are here, finally they’ve made it.

Bellamy moves forward to meet them as well. To meet Clarke.  
He extends his hand and she takes it. The gesture is so very formal for this strange and wild place, and for a moment Clarke feels as though they are just playing pretend. Like children playing knights and princesses and warriors. Like they have any control over this new world they have found themselves in, or even any control over what happens to them now.

‘Bellamy,’ he says, although she knows it already.  
‘Clarke.’

And then she remembers why his name is so familiar.  
Bellamy Blake tried to shoot the Chancellor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our two leaders finally meet!  
> I hope you guys like it because I'm really enjoying writing this! <3  
> And thank you for all the comments :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song recommendation for this chapter: '2 Heads', by Coleman Hell <3  
> (It's what I was listening to while writing this!)

Clarke’s eyes widen imperceptibly when Bellamy introduces himself. A second later her expression is smooth once again, but he can’t help but wonder what made her react that way. 

So close to her, it’s easy to see how shitty their first few days must have been simply by observing her. Clarke looks fucking exhausted. She has shadows under her eyes, darker than anyone their age should ever have, as though sleep is a concept that evades her. Her face is beautiful but haunted. Eyes that have seen too much surrounded by a halo of blond hair. So Bellamy makes the executive decision to cut her a break before anything else, like the matter of their wristbands, is settled. Sometimes, albeit rarely on the Ground, humanity must outweigh practicality.  
Bellamy releases her hand.  
‘Shall we?’ he says, nodding towards the campsite.

Bellamy walks the new arrivals through the camp. Next to him, Clarke’s eyes are darting around the area, seemingly cataloguing everything she sees, sometimes nodding appreciatively, like when she sees the wooden fence they are consolidating. Bellamy attempts, then immediately fails, to ignore the small flutter of pride he feels at her nod. It’s silly, he knows, but it’s nice for an outsider to think he’s done something right.  
Around them, dusk has begun to settle. Bellamy tasks Octavia and Murphy with helping the new arrivals settle in, although painfully aware that ‘Murphy’ and ‘patient host’ are not words that belong anywhere remotely near each other.  
Soon enough though, the new group is fully integrated into the (now slightly cramped) campsite. Bellamy struggles to figure out how his day went from quiet…to this. It’s so much livelier now, but it isn’t just that. Clarke’s people are still getting used to the ground. They aren’t as jaded as them. Yes, they’ve encountered death, but as a singular tragedy, whereas for Bellamy it’s become more of a somber routine. So the atmosphere in the camp feels lighter now, anguish diluted into surprise and a few happy reunions. 

While Bellamy is lost in thought, a boy has appeared by Clarke’s side. He’d introduced himself as Finn earlier on, and while he had also been wandering around the camp, he returned to Clarke’s side often. There was an arrogance and possessiveness as to how Finn carried himself that had already pissed Bellamy off from the get-go.  
His furious whispers bring Bellamy back into the present. Bellamy hears just enough to make out the fact that Finn has figured out why no one here is wearing their wristbands. Shit. And Bellamy had thought he could just ignore it all until tomorrow. He’d thought he could let this moment stretch and leave it to his future and better rested self to deal with in the morning. At least there is some satisfaction in the confirmation that no, Bellamy really does not like this guy.

He watches Clarke observe him, and he mentally gears himself up for a confrontation. God, she looks so tired. He’s trying to figure her expression out, but exhaustion is all her face is screaming at him. And then it shifts and all of her weariness is gone, like she’s mustered up every ounce of energy left in her. She seems resigned to this now, to getting through more of the day.

‘I think we should talk,’ she says, her eyes not betraying any emotion.  
Bellamy nods, and gestures toward his tent. Finn starts after them, anger rolling off him as he keeps on talking to Clarke. Irritation solidifies within Bellamy’s guts. Clearly his poker face is not as impenetrable as he prides himself on, because Clarke picks up on it immediately and turns to Finn.  
‘Finn, I’ll talk to Bellamy alone. You should rest.’  
Bellamy expects her voice to carry notes of an apology, but only determination comes out of it. He hurries his pace and turns his head away from them to hide his smirk. It’s childish as hell but he can’t help it. 

After a few words with Finn, Clarke catches up to him.  
‘I didn’t do it for you,’ she says. ‘I’ve patched up enough people in the last four days and I don’t need you two to add to that because you can’t act civilized and have a conversation about this.’  
Bellamy wonders who her parents up on the Ark are, because that kind of tone only comes from having a family with power. And then he takes in the rest of her words and realizes that Clarke knows how to heal people. A pang of jealousy stabs at him. And it’s idiotic because he’s not envious of her skills but envious of her group. Envious that they had someone to care for them in a way that mattered, and that this someone was Clarke, who apparently shouldered responsibility without complaint. He thinks about the kid they lost early on to an infection, and to that immense feeling of powerlessness that still lingers in him. And finally, Bellamy thinks that Fate must have intervened in some way for Clarke to be here now, so strong and so tired and so determined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took a while to post, university is starting up again soon for me so I was trying to figure a lot of things out at once! I hope you guys like it though <3 I'm really enjoying writing from Bellamy's POV!
> 
> Let me know what you guys think! I'm trying to keep Bellamy as in-character as possible while also keeping in mind that he's been struggling as a leader for a month already so I hope the way I'm writing him makes sense...  
> And thank you so much for your comments, they really make me so happy :)


	6. Chapter 6

Conflicted, is what Clarke feels as she observes Bellamy once they’ve both entered his tent. So incredibly grateful that he welcomed her group in because Clarke doesn’t know what they would have done if he’d remained suspicious of them and turned them all away. So incredibly frustrated that his group voluntarily abandoned their wristbands and that Bellamy had a more than minimal part to play in that. And somewhere in the back of her head, the knowledge that Bellamy is on the Ground because he tried to shoot the Chancellor hammers into her.

‘I was hoping we could do this tomorrow,’ Bellamy says, interrupting her thoughts.  
‘If you hadn’t decided to start a pocket-sized rebellion from the Ground against the Ark, we wouldn’t have to do this at all.’  
_Congrats_ , Clarke mentally chastises herself, _doing a fantastic job of keeping this civilized_.

‘I’m not asking you to agree with what we did Princess, but if your group is going to stay here they’ll have to do the same.’  
‘Don’t call me that,’ Clarke replies immediately. It’s childish to even oppose a nickname in the midst of everything else they’re dealing with, but the words are out of her mouth before she can stop herself.  
Bellamy’s gaze is steady on hers, and Clarke can swear she sees a flicker of amusement in them. Her mental scale leans towards frustration more than gratefulness. She takes a deep breath.

‘Besides, you can’t possibly expect us to do that. The wristbands are the entire reason we’re on the Ground.’  
‘And yet if we hadn’t taken ours off, the Ark wouldn’t even have sent you down,’ Bellamy counters.  
‘They would have, just along with everyone else.’  
‘Great. And then they would have run this place just as they ran things up on the Ark. Because that’s worked out perfectly for them hasn’t it? Do you not see how much freer we are now?’

Clarke thinks back to her first day on the Ground and to that first glimpse of the grassy prairie. It wouldn’t have been the same if those responsible for her father’s execution and for her own imprisonment had been there with her. She knows there is truth to what he says, but it isn’t the whole picture.

‘It doesn’t have to be the same as on the Ark. You and the rest of the Exodus have been here for a month. You’ve been surviving for a month. Leading for a month. When the Ark comes down they can’t take that away from you, from any of us. They don’t know the Ground like we do. They won’t be the ones in power anymore. We’ll make sure of that. But we can’t let them think we’re dead, Bellamy. They’re running out of air up there. You may hate them but I cannot believe you would want their deaths on your shoulders.’  
Clarke sees something shift in his expression but she doesn’t pause.  
‘And even if all that can’t convince you, then at least do it for your group and for mine. I haven’t been on the Ground for as long as you have, but I know that we’re not alone here. Finn told me you lost some people too,’ she says her voice softening. She can’t imagine going through that tidal wave of grief and helplessness so many times. ‘I don’t know that we have the numbers to fight whatever battle we are fighting. The Ark has those numbers, and weapons. They can help us. There’s no point to making it this far if there’s too few of us to make it through.’

Bellamy is quiet. He goes to sit on his makeshift bed, and gestures Clarke to a chair. And finally he speaks. And when he does he tells her about his family, about having a hidden sister. He tells her about his mother’s death and about Octavia being sent to the Ground when she was found out. He tells her about the deal he struck so that he could follow her there, but also about how in that last second he aimed his rifle away from the Chancellor. His relief about being sent to the Ground anyway and his fear that he’ll be taken away from her if the Ark comes down.  
Slowly, Bellamy Blake becomes less of a mystery to Clarke. Slowly in her mind, he shifts from ‘the boy who shot the Chancellor’ to ‘the boy protected his sister’. He becomes a Bellamy Clarke can understand.

‘We won’t let them have things their way like they did on the Ark, Bellamy. I realize you don’t know me at all, but I don’t break my promises. And I promise you I won’t let them separate you and Octavia. We have time to figure things out before the Ark comes down.’

Bellamy leans back in his bed and looks up. He sighs then turns to Clarke. It’s as though he’s weighing her intentions and her as a whole. She holds his gaze.

‘Fine,’ he says finally. ‘Keep the wristbands on. You’re right, we can’t fight the Grounders alone.’  
Relief washes through Clarke. She isn’t sure what she would have done if he’d given her an ultimatum between the wristbands and staying here. Or rather, she knows exactly what she would have chosen, but it’s not something her morals would have appreciated.

‘But,’ he adds, ‘if it ever comes down to choosing between the Ark and the rest of our groups, or Octavia, I won’t hesitate to leave with her. If the Ark comes down and they don’t agree to our rules then the only person I’m fighting for is Octavia, alright? It won’t be about choosing sides, because mine will always be hers.’

‘I get that,’ Clark says, ‘and hopefully it won’t come down to that.’  
And then, because it matters, she says ‘Thank you.’

Bellamy simply nods.

Like earlier in the day, Clarke feels as though they are both just playing a role. Who are they to be in charge of these kind of things? Who are they to lead and to take responsibility, when they are so young themselves? Every step Clarke takes on the Ground feels impossibly monumental, and she feels like all she’s been doing in the last few days has been running away from being overwhelmed. It gnaws at her now, the fear that she isn’t up to any of this, because really, how could she be?

Bellamy breaks the silence that has now settled in the tent. ‘They’re lucky to have you, your group.’  
The fear in Clarke recedes. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

‘Thank you,’ she whispers, ‘And yours is lucky to have you.’

When Clarke steps out of Bellamy’s tent the sky is dark and heavy, but there is a new lightness in her, because she does not feel as alone in her strange new role as she did before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a longer chapter for you guys! I had so much fun writing this one! This is an extremely slow-burn but I hope you'll like it <3  
> Also, as I wrote this I realised that the backstory of what happened on the Ark might sound a bit confusing, because I'm keeping some parts of the show and leaving others out, but hopefully it will all make sense >.< For example although I love Wells, he doesn't appear here because this is my first fic and I didn't want to have too many characters so that I could just focus o Bellamy and Clarke :)
> 
> Anyways, I hope you're enjoying it! Let me know what you think!


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